


Gone Fishin'

by finefeatheredfriend



Series: Why Can't We Be Friends? (AKA Wholesome Shorts) [2]
Category: Far Cry, Far Cry 5
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Gen, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 13:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19401568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finefeatheredfriend/pseuds/finefeatheredfriend
Summary: Rook is having trouble catching the Admiral for Skylar so she persuades Sheriff Whitehorse to give her some fishing advice





	Gone Fishin'

“I still think you have better things to be working on, Rook,” Earl groused as he reeled in his line again. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her smirking.

“Skylar needs my help. She wants the prize money to leave the county. You told me to help people, Sheriff.” Earl looked over at Rook over the top of his glasses and sniffed skeptically.

“I was born at night, Rook, but I wasn’t born last night. I know you’ve got a crush on that girl.”

“I…no, I just want to help another…I don’t…how could you think…why would I…” Rook spluttered, turning wildly to look at Earl with a hard blush turning her cheeks crimson.

“Hush, Rook, you’ll scare the fish,” Earl told her blandly, trying very hard to make sure that the smile at the corners of his mouth doesn’t escape from beneath his mustache to where Rook could see it. He loved teasing the kid about this stuff. “Glad it’s finally raining,” he commented, feeling cool drops land on his shoulders just past the brim of his Stetson. With a cool flick of his wrist, he cast his line, the fly barely breaking the skin of the water as it landed amidst ripples created by tiny raindrops. Rook is quiet, but contented next to him now, relaxing. She knew he meant no harm in teasing her.

“So what do you recommend next?” she asked, reeling slowly, trying to entice the Admiral to take her bait once more. The massive fish had already broken her line twice so far.

“Just keep reelin’ nice and slow, Rook. I’ve told you before that fishing for sturgeon during rain can make it easier to catch ‘em, but it can also make ‘em slow about taking your bait. But I don’t think I’m really out here because you want my advice catching this fish,” he supposed in his gravelly voice, pointedly not looking at her. He heard Rook chuff a little laugh.

“No, Sheriff. It’s just, I thought we could both use the break. You especially. There’s not a time I step foot in the jail when you aren’t surrounded by people wanting your help, or wanting orders, or just wanting to jaw jack with you. I know you’re a quiet man, Sheriff, it’s part of why my dad liked you so much.” Earl laughed.

“Yeah, because he could do all the talking,” he chortled, tugging his pole up as he felt a bite at his bait.

“I miss him,” Rook admitted.

“Me too, kid.”

“So anyway,” Rook said, quickly changing the subject away from more painful topics, “I figured you needed some time away. I don’t think we’ve gone fishing together since I worked animal control.”

“Hhmm,” Earl agreed softly, reeling his line, tiring the fish at the end of it out slowly, gently. They fished together in comfortable silence for a while, soft raindrops falling lightly on them, the storm not heavy enough yet to really give them a soaking. Earl took a refreshing drink of beer after he pulled his fish in, a decent-sized bass he intended to eat for dinner. “You been taking care of yourself, Rook?” Earl finally asked, watching as she again flicked her line out over the water, the bait landing with a little _plop_ that made him wince. Kid still needed practice.

“Time for that later,” she responded, jaw tightening. A fish bit and she hooked it, reeling carefully.

“You’re looking thin, Rook.”

“And I’m sure Pratt’s pretty goddamn thin too at this point,” she snapped, and so did her line. She swore and Earl looked over at her softly, his caterpillar brows pulled together in concern.

“You’ll get him out,” he assured her, though he wasn’t sure himself. Worry shot through him at the thought of Pratt, tied up in Jacob’s bunker. Poor kid. Rook stood there, her rod held limply in her hand, staring at the water with a guilty, pained look on her face. Earl reached out a hand, cupped her shoulder and shook it a bit until she met his gaze. “One more time, Rook. You gotta try one more time. You can’t give up just because you failed.” Rook frowned a little. “The fish,” Earl clarified suddenly, nodding at her rod. Rook swallowed and cast again. Earl cast as well, but his attention was on Rook’s line, not his own. The fish bit and again Rook hooked it. From the strong bend at the end of her rod, it appeared she had once again managed to hook the Admiral. “Careful now, Rook. Let him think he’s won. There you go. Let out more line. Now pull him in. Good. Let the bastard think he’s got a fighting chance, and then you hit him with everything you’ve got, Rook.”

Amidst the raindrops, sweat broke out on Rook’s forehead as she reeled, her shoulders heaved as she resisted the fish’s tugging and struggling. Finally, after many words of encouragement, and a mighty battle of wills, the Admiral came close and Earl grabbed the fishnet, dipping it under the massive sturgeon and helping Rook lift the monstrous animal.

“He’s a beautiful fish,” Rook commented as she set him down into their cooler, panting a bit from the effort of catching such a large fish. “It’s almost a shame we have to take him.”

“He’s an invasive species,” Earl reminded her. “He doesn’t belong here. He’s a big ol’ bully hurting all the other fish in the lake. There’s nothing wrong with feeling empathy for your enemy, Rook, but don’t forget that he’s just that, your enemy.” Rook met his gaze steadily.

“We aren’t talking about the Admiral are we, Sheriff?”

“Am I not allowed to give fatherly advice anymore?” he countered softly with a little smile. Rook chuckled.

“Don’t ever stop, Sheriff.”

“You got it, kid. I gotta get back to the jail. You get that prize money to Skylar and tell her I said ‘hello.’ And Rook?”

“Yeah, Sheriff?”

“Eat a sandwich. I worry about you.”


End file.
